♫New Order - Thieves Like Us♫

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July 11, 1778

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sea [https://i.vgy.me/tpUJI1.png]

It happened there... It ended there? I don't think so.

From this day and onwards, I know that I've learned nothing. Father as well, but he wasn't alive to tell me it so, and I was too young to understand if he did it so, me and my brothers. I shall had finished my chapter here, my book was meant to be closed there, on this wasteland. As if my body pleaded for more... no, please don't. This place as a whole is a quicksand for the people or any being to be sunk there. Passing throught the blood section, only a few bodies stood in the ground, thanks to the work of many who contributed to carry them on, with both arms, or an only arm, at least they had been doing something. Always meant to do something, to follow of orders, to be deceived by our rulers, to see the failure within you, and just agree this is your place, and there are no cliffs for those steps to be made. They may be bodies and only, but never that the desert shall take care of them, incinerate with the sun until they become ashes. Gray ashes, unlike the dust of the wind, a warm wind alike the sun of the morning.

Clyde... I could had been that same body, instead of his. If he's playing dead only to wake up and make fun of those who attend the funeral, such thing will never happen. Though, it would be a bit fun, and I would be angry instead of happy. Either way, I'll share of a nervous smile, and jokes to make them laugh, as if nothing else happened. That's what Clyde would want, yet no one will ever know of his dying wish. He died because of it's people... such a brave warrior he was... yeah, that's what Clyde would want, and always demanded of others. I'll be missing you, daddy; not even that is enough for his. His face looks dumb, an awful caricature of a living being, just an idiot expression left by the spear stuck within his. They may let that tongue of his be in the mouth, at least, but not that isn't enough to make that face frighten me less, this if they don't cremate his, and put his ashes on an urn. Clyde always liked to put some fire, and now they may burn his as a whole, as much as his name will forever remain burnt in my head.

A few Libers are also willing to aid us, same for those alexandrians. Both sides, since they are neutral, after all, they had nothing to do with this, except the blame I have to put upon some of our ancestors, for making us into what've became. We shall do this instead; those carcasses belongs to animals, and for an instant we become them. Still we are the same. In the end, we had all been used on their ways. Goodbye, sun. You dried the most of us. The blue of the sky ain't the blue of mine. We always had been living on a post-war state, or worse, on a pre-war... anyway, we and our backs remain tired. My mouth is dry for some water, and for some words to be spoken. How speechless I am, and how speechless they became, caricatures instead of faces displayed all over the place. Some may be lucky enough to become ashes so they don't see them like this, less than Burmecians, or any being. Same for these Alexandrians, who had retreated like we did, though we offered of some assistance to they while crossing that same grotto where Gizamaluke resides. It's like this was never meant to happen, yet we do exist, so everything happens, nothing lasts... except the memories.

Some may had disappeared in oblivion last night, their last one, unlike the stories meant to be told to their descendants, if there was at least one left in this world. Alone, not on their own words and thoughts. Speaking of alone, never that I've felt such thing as soon as we are being guided towards home. Like us, Prescott is also following of this same trail. It may be a different path, but they all leaded his to the same place. As the autumn leaves from the faraway land dissapeared, we had to deal with our own, being holded by our hands. The spears and javelins were threw because of their weight, but they might be taken again, by people other than me, or maybe myself again. Never... never again. Prescott also said the same, so here we are. It may had been a long and past memory, but now I see that this is the same man who came back to Burmecia, same one who had an injured leg, still bleeding as I could see when that white bandage became red. It may not been his who was there, but I knew he was someone related to father, and me as well. The close I'll ever allow or allowed of a person to be near me... so many I've left to be on my side, others I've took away, or the duty did it so, while I choose to live like a shadow in the pouring rain.

Prescott... He gave me his canteen, and so I've felt the water flowing down into my throat, before I felt it running down into my skin, along my sweat. I thought it has been years since I felt the fertile lands of my homeland with the touch of my feet. The aroma of the falling rain reminded me of my youth days, kids playing with each other, jumping on the water puddles, hiding on treetops, shouting their names... This is our land. Vices everywhere; they weren't meant to bring us any turmoil because our eyes saw more than their green skin and flesh. Even this Mist became invisible for the sight, irrelevant because we are blind without it as well. We all were awaiting to see our families, not to cause any more suffering, though some will never come back, only in memories. Miles away from the main gates, and so I've approached near what Clyde became, only to hide his face with a piece of cloth. They don't deserve to see him alike this, or ever know already that he became this. He looks like an idiot, and even if he may had been such, Clyde is still my brother.

They did the same for father, who also died on same way. He may had shared of same face if I had ever been given permission to look for this. All in order for me to remain sane, they didn't let me look his, and thus another wound was left on me, unlike that pale skin of his. So we have reached the gates... My legs are tired, my back hurts, and if it hurts, that's a sign that I am alive, and these are the gates of Burmecia, not those belonging to whatever I and my soul may be found. The afterlife, or in messages, the ones who didn't make until here had been gone to these places. Sigurd is nowhere to be found, since it was his who began it all... Only I, Prescott and the Prince know about it. Two of us had been kept in silence, in order for us to remain a bit sane. Like many of us, we don't know how does the Prince or any member of the Royal blood lives, or what they do ever feel for us. To treat us like this is as far as we may know about them, or not. So, the gates had been opened, no horns echoed into our ears, except the choir meant to be heard by those we've left behind. Half of us were able to get back, while others will get nowhere. Same for us.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

We all split up, and that wasn't an order. Those who were slight injured came back to their homes, or so I pretend they did. The only stones in the middle of the way are these same cobblestones were we step on, furthening our trail to home. The only one who came besides me was Prescott, and a figure who also took a look at me. It came running, unlike these slow steps belonging to these joints once covered by sand, now soaked by mud. My son, Jack, came running to me. I know it was his, it is him, as I can see him, that face clearly after I took him with my arms. Somehow, I could do it, and the pain didn't mattered. From that distance, so far, and Jack came towards me... He had the energy to be able to do it so, as much as he could shout as well. DADDY! Not even I was given an opportunity to say such words with same joyful tone as his. He had been followed of Dan, my niece, and from that moment and onwards, he would be only knew as my niece. I was about to say 'how are you doing, my niece?', but how could I, seeing the dissapointment over his face. Shame as well, and so he fled. Nowhere else to hide, other than his own home, wherever it may be the place Clyde used to play hide-and-seek with his hands. I also did the same for Jack, but he was always sure that I would be back, and so do my face.

Jack tried to speak with Dan, yet he couldn't. Nobody can, nobody that I know. For this same reason, I've left Jack to go after him. They know each other far better than I can tell. Same goes for Prescott and his children, or an only child of his we both saw on the middle of same path. He came later than the others, said nothing, but that look of his was meant to be heard more than we could see it. I don't know his, just the name, it's a kid by the name of Fratley, maybe I've heard it before. Daddy, aro you a ghost, or so I've heard him for the first time, wondering straight to his own father. I knew he wasn't, and certainly Prescott, or Hyuuga, it doesn't matter the name or the place he had been, althought I still call him by Prescott because of the first impression left by me towards his, well... Prescott wouldn't ever say 'yes', even if it was meant to be a joke. That kid may not had been showings signs of being upset, althought his body trembled. Mine as well, and this rain is so cold, but now that I watch me into a puddle of clear water, not only the rain is cold. Prescott took that child with his arms, and that was enough to show the boy he was there, alive, not only an illusion of his sight, and my sight as well.

Clyde could had been here as well, if it wasn't for last night. I won't tell what happened to anyone. It didn't happen, it was just a nightmare... how much I've wished it was one. Prescott also have nothing to tell to his son, other that he came back for his, and the siblings, and his mother as well. Same I've said for Jack, who went away after Dan, I guess he did. I didn't ordered his to do it, because I have only allowed his to be fred from my embrace, unlike her... Lenneth. I saw my wife. She is carrying another child within her. I didn't knew she was, nobody else told me it so. As soon as I've came near her, the one who felt less pain, my single presence brought tears into her amethyst eyes, same it happened when I wasn't there, but nobody else so close to notice them like I did. I saw a plenty of bodies falling, some without any pain, but they all shared of souls. Ghosts also reside within machines, or so I've heard Prescott, and it wasn't me who was meant to hear it, but his son instead. I guess Fratley didn't paid that much of attention, since he is only interested by the fact his father is alive, not only in a dream, but he was back to listen and hear of his wonderous stories.

You aren't only a witness of the time. Each one of us makes our personal goals. Now Bart, go create yours... he said. We were already demanded to do something before we came to this place. So Prescott left, behind me, with his son who stood above his shoulder. To be forgotten is worse than death, or so I've heard Lenneth saying it once, back on those days she had been preparing herself to become a Dragoon Knight. Anything that resembles the death in itself may be, Lenneth. Anything... Dan kept thowing some rocks at the lake. They only sank in there, same for what remained of Dan and the sea he had been drowning into, or so I've heard Jack, soon as he went later to this same house. He couldn't do anything to help his friend. The only thing that appeared for his was a wound left by a stone threw onto that face. Jack had nobody to blame. He wasn't old enough to do it, and I am a coward enough. Yet, in this same world, the cowards they refer to such as me are the ones who live longer than others, same for the ignorant ones. We share of a same place, different ideas and notions.

But what it will do if I keep thinking about them? They will always be above us, watching us, so we do the same, yet we can't step on them. Only themselves... I do have a plenty of things to plan, and think about, like the brother Jack keeps talking about so much. Lenneth as well, though I am the only one who shares of other thoughts. So will do my wife, when she'll be ready to be back on her duty, but since the damage had been done, and Jack won't be anymore alone, she is also planning to share some more time with us, and the newborn, whichever it may be its name. Many had lose more than the names as much as I am able to give some for it, his or her. Only his appeared within my sight, until I saw Lenneth. Again. So cold were these hands above that bump, and yet, I didn't heard any complains. These hands, claws used to be all over her like before, but I'm not interested into this. Many who came back may be, but I am myself, not everybody, althought I may live for their sake, don't you?

Soon I'll be back to the routine I had taken over the years, but before, I may enjoy something far more meant to be a reward than any lust, or pleasure. When the evening came, it was me who prepared the dinner, a soup made of some vegetables and fruits I've took from the kailyard. Nobody else, other than Dan, had been invited. He and his stomach may be filled in, but as soon as he left this place, he'll become empty again. This chair I used to sit may not be empty, yet I do fell like I am. Who else, other than these people to make me as a whole, as something more than a thing, an object? I am sorry, that's what Dan said to Jack, while he kept looking at me, as if I was the closest I could become to a father by his. He still had his mother, yet he missed Clyde, not as much as me, because I knew his since young. We spent the night on that same table telling to each other about Clyde, and the many things he had ever done; funny ones, but not even once I made him laugh. Everyone else did, except Dan. I knew, at the same time I didn't, how he felt.

After the dinner, as I've told Jack to help his mother to go to bed, I was responsible to led Dan to his house. It's too dark outside here, like inside of ourselves, though the layers of same darkness may vary within us. On the way to his house, he told me about his mother, Cynthia, and what should he had to say to her. Nothing, I said, acknowledging him that someone else did told her the news instead. It's like those messengers are there, awaiting to speak of my name. Dan despises his brothers, like they all seem to do, and yet they were the only ones, besides his little sister, to be taken care by mother. Besides, he also told me that he loves someone by the name of Learie, just a girl with the same age as his. You are just a kid, Dan, I would say to his, but then, everything changed with a single thought; what Dan said to me is meant to be compared to anything I've ever said to a mirror.

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